Master

by Catherine Taylor

  His tirade was frightening, but Lena felt shamed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. Please don’t swear so much.”

  Jahn stood up and she could see him struggling to get his temper under control. He exhaled deeply. “Alright, I’ll try not to curse so much, but I want some co-operation from you, instead of putting a fuss on all the time.”

  “I’m just scared.” Lena hung her head. “I don’t know what you want from me. Maybe you should have just let me die.”

  He crouched down to look into her face and his voice was soft. “By now you’ll know that you would be powerless against me, even if you were well, therefore there is no reason for me to lie to you. I could do whatever I want, but I have no intention of hurting you or doing anything to you sexually. For now, I need you to be here, and I can’t tell you why, but I promise you that you are safe.”

  Raising her head, she looked into his face and strangely felt compelled to believe him. A hundred new questions were filling her head, but for now she would keep them to herself. He had saved her life, and there was no denying that she felt well. Perhaps he deserved a little compliance.

  She pouted at him. “I’ll wear your stupid bib.”

  He grinned. “Thank you.”

  Sitting up, Lena allowed him to tie it around her neck. The tray was set down on her lap and her eyes widened. The bowl of steaming, red borscht was thick with meat and vegetables with a large dollop of cream in the centre. Next to it, on a platter, was a glazed bread roll, a slice of cake and a small slab of dark chocolate.

  She frowned. “I may look like a pig, but I don’t eat like one.”

  Once again her chin was grasped and her face directed towards his.

  “Don’t talk like that. You do not look like a pig. You’re a little overweight, that wouldn’t affect your health if you were caring for yourself.”

  Lena scoffed. “You think I’m worried about my health?”

  “You should be,” he told her firmly. “If you are referring to an aesthetic viewpoint, then again you don’t have any problems.”

  “What does that mean?”

  He grinned. “It means that if you’re worried you don’t look attractive, then stop worrying.”

  Lena stared at him. “You think I am attractive?”

  “Now that you’re cleaned up, yes.”

  “But not compared to someone like Oleysa?”

  He sighed. “You are as attractive as any of the women that were there last night, and more than most of them. Stop comparing yourself with others. Oleysa is pretty, but I imagine she would rather be happy, and that’s something beauty can’t buy.”

  “Better to be miserably beautiful, than just miserable.”

  “Perhaps if you didn’t sulk so much, you wouldn’t be so miserable.”

  “I doubt it,” she replied, just to get the last word in.

  He shook his head. “Eat your lunch.”

  “Borscht is supposed to be served cold or warm, not steaming like this.”

  “Well I serve it the way I like it. Why don’t you try it before you start complaining?”

  Lena picked up her fork and stabbed a piece of meat. Under his gaze, she blew upon it before tentatively placing it into her mouth. Immediately she was surprised by the delicious taste. When the first mouthful was gone, she glanced up to see his smug expression.

  “It’s alright,” she shrugged. “I’ll eat it, since you went to the trouble of making it.”

  “Good, and when you have finished that, I have more tablets for you to take.”

  She frowned. “What type of tablets?”

  “Painkillers and antibiotics for the infection.”

  “How do you know what to give me? You’re not a doctor.”

  “I have enough medical knowledge to deal with what you have. Just eat your lunch. I have work to do.”

  He left, and Lena began to eat heartily, savouring every wonderful mouthful. It was better than anything she had eaten from her father’s restaurant, not that she had dined in it. In the early morning, when everyone was still in bed, she would often go downstairs to raid the storeroom, taking a day’s supplies back with her to her room. There were often desserts left over, and bread and cheese. Occasionally she took some fruit when it was available.

  That way she was able to avoid her stepmother for most of the day, retreating to her bedroom to live in the world she had created for herself and Greta, filled with the happy endings of her movies and books.

  Lena frowned and looked about her, suddenly realising that Greta was nowhere to be seen. Her heart started racing and she shifted the tray, lifting pillows and bedclothes. Shifting about, she looked down at the floor on either side of the bed and found nothing.

  A mournful cry escaped her as she got off the bed, nearly collapsing with her shaky legs. Sinking to her knees, she looked under the bed to no avail, and her cries grew louder. With much effort, she managed to get to her feet again and stumble to the door.

  Jahn was at the sink doing dishes, but only became aware of her as she started screaming.

  “Where is she? Where’s Greta? What have you done with her?”

  She started to stagger about the room, only to fall to the floor with a loud wail. Jahn hurried to her, only to be attacked with her fists. His arm went around her and he grabbed her wrists to keep her still.

  “Stop it, Lena.” His voice was angry but quiet. “Stop it and I’ll get your doll.”

  He didn’t release her until she had settled down. “Now stay sitting there and stop putting your turns on. I won’t put up with it.”

  She watched him get up and go to the table near the couch. She saw the familiar little cotton stuffed body and the plastic arms and legs, but it wasn’t until he held it out to her that she realised what was different.

  Her head was back on the body and all the rips had been sewn up neatly. Her face was washed and her nylon hair had been combed. Like her, Greta had been fixed up.

  Her lip trembling, Lena reached out and stared incredulously at her baby, before bringing her into a tight hug against her breast. She looked up at Jahn who was frowning angrily.

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re not welcome,” he growled. “Now, can I get you back into bed without any more tantrums and hysterical screaming?”

  She nodded, and slowly got up with his help, where he scooped her into his arms. He carried her back to the bed and tidied her pillows and bedclothes once she was seated. Lena stared at him, and when he had finished she smiled at him.

  “You fixed her.”

  “And she was a lot better behaved than you were,” he answered grumpily.

  His comment made her smile wider. “I really meant it when I said thank you.”

  “I know. Now stay in that bed and eat your lunch, and I don’t want to hear another sound come out of this room for at least another hour. Is that clear?”

  She nodded happily, wiping away some stray tears. “I don’t understand you. You save my life. You fix my Greta. You buy me pretty clothes and cook wonderful food for me and you tell me you don’t want to have sex with me.”

  “I didn’t say that,” he said, with a slight grin. “I said I wouldn’t have sex with you.”

  Lena blushed as she realised the meaning of his comment. Her smile faded. “So when does it all go bad? When do I find out what you want?”

  “I can’t tell you that,” he replied soberly. “Because I don’t know. Whatever happens, know this, that you will not be harmed. Up until then, I will do my best to look after you. Can we leave it at that?”

  Lena nodded and allowed her smile to return. “So you’re going to wait on me, hand and foot, and clean and cook for me. I can live with that.”

  Jahn smiled and bent down to glare at her with mock severity. “One thing you should know about me, I have a great fondness for smacking naughty girls’ bottoms when they play up, and don’t do as they’re told.”

  Warm colour flooded her face and Lena bit her lip. She tried to avoid his
eyes, but his face was too close to hers.

  She shrugged. “It’s a good thing that I am not a naughty girl.”

  For the first time she saw him laugh.

  “Eat your lunch,” he growled.

  With that, he left her alone again, and Lena looked at Greta. “He’s weird.”

  The permanent smile of Greta seemed to challenge her.

  “Okay, so he’s not bad looking either, and he’s got lots of big muscles and really nice eyes, but that doesn’t mean that we let our guard down. For now, we make the most of this situation.”

  * * * *

  Before leaving the apartment, Jahn turned up the volume of music on the stereo. With Lena more alert and active, his time would be short. Stepping out into the hall, he closed the door quietly behind him, before drawing a key from his pocket. Walking to the stairwell, he looked down and listened before returning to the doors. He slipped the key into the lock of the door next to his apartment and opened it.

  Reaching his arm around, he felt for the keypad, pressing buttons and waiting to hear the small click that the room had been disarmed. Closing the door behind him, he went to the computer and sat down, letting his fingers dance across a keyboard. The screen flickered and lit up with words, flying across it as if invisibly typed. Jahn read several of them aloud, slowly and clearly, just to hear his pronunciation of English words. Learning the language had been easy, but the accent had taken time to perfect.

  The screen went black, except for a pulsing line. Jahn typed his command and after a long pause an animation began to play. It began with the face of Lenin, bowing down to show the top of his bald head. Slowly, something appeared, crawling up behind him, until it sat perched on his dome. Raising its own creepy head, the vampire bat stared back with beady eyes and enormous ears, digging long spindly claws into the shiny scalp.

  Poking the keyboard, the animation was replaced with a command that said ‘Insert disk.’ From his pocket, he took out a floppy disk and inserted it into the slot in the processor. When the blinking cursor appeared, he typed ‘Log’ before slipping headphones onto his ears.

  The first channels were silent and Jahn flicked between them until he heard voices. For several minutes he fast forwarded in bursts, stopping to listen to the conversation before speeding it up again. Taking a notepad and pen, he jotted several items down in English, and continued to listen. Half an hour later, he was satisfied that there was nothing of importance and began the process of shutting the computer down.

  Upon returning to the apartment, Jahn grabbed the box of medications he had set aside for Lena and filled a jug with water. Lena was reclining against the pillows cuddling Greta when he entered. He smiled to see that all the food had been eaten. She looked at him suspiciously as he began to remove tablets from the foils.

  “How do you know those pills are good for me?” she frowned.

  “Because if you were going to have an allergic reaction, you would have had it by now.”

  Lena’s mouth fell open. “And what if I had?”

  “Then I had some antihistamines on hand, or if worse, I would have given you a shot of adrenaline.”

  “How do you know all this? You’re a coalminer, not a doctor.”

  “I told you, I’ve had some medical training, enough to deal with the ailments I come up against.”

  “You treat others?”

  He looked at her, and she could see by his frown that he was reluctant to answer. He gave her the pills and poured a glass of water. “Take them and drink all the water. You need plenty of fluids.”

  He watched her until the glass was drained, and then breathed out deeply and frowned.

  “What I have to do next, you’re not going to like, but it has to be done. Can we just get it over with, without you putting on your turns and bawling like an infant?”

  Lena frowned. “What do you have to do?”

  He brought out the tin of zinc cream. “You have sores and rashes that need to be attended to. Some of it you can do yourself, but some I need to do and…”

  “I have to be naked, don’t I?” Lena huffed. “You’re not tired now. What’s to stop you from… from touching me wrong?”

  “Because I promised you I wouldn’t.”

  Her face was still angry and miserable. “I suppose it’s not like you haven’t already seen all there is to see, and touched it. And what if I say no?”

  “Then I’ll do it anyway, as I did last night.”

  Lena stared down at Greta. “Promise me that you won’t do anything bad.”

  “I promise.”

  Putting Greta aside, Lena sat up and looked at him. “Then do it.”

  “We’ll do your top half first,” he told her as he helped her to stand.

  He pulled the nightie up and off and Lena immediately folded her arms over her breasts. The open tin was held out to her and the distinct smell of the zinc cream filled her nose.

  “You can do the first part,” Jahn said. “Get a generous amount and rub in under your tits… your breasts.”

  Lena tentatively scooped some of the cream and noticed that Jahn had turned away. As she lifted her breast, she soon realised that he had been right. The red, inflamed skin was still irritable, and the zinc brought immediate relief. She massaged it into the rash and covered herself up again.

  “Done.” She said.

  Jahn turned back. “Good, now let me get the ones on your back.”

  She shifted about and gasped slightly as he touched her, gently rubbing areas where she had been itchy for days.

  “What are they?” she asked.”

  “Bites from bedbugs.”

  She shifted to look at him in horror. “I don’t want bugs on my skin.”

  He smiled. “They don’t stay on your body. They live in bedclothes and breed rapidly. They just come out to feed.”

  “That’s disgusting.” Her face fell. “It’s because I was so dirty, wasn’t it?”

  “Not changing your linen wouldn’t have helped, but they’re not fussy where they breed, clean or dirty.”

  “I wasn’t always like this,” she told him earnestly. “I used to take care of myself. I liked to be pretty.”

  When he didn’t answer, she persisted. “It’s true.”

  “I didn’t say it wasn’t.” Jahn replied, continuing to massage her.

  “Don’t you want to know why I’m like this?”

  He shrugged. “If you want to tell me.”

  Her face fell. “But you don’t care if I don’t, because why would you even care?”

  “Your back is done. Put your nightie back on before we do the lower half.”

  His dismissal was hurtful at first, but Lena remembered that this was not a friend she was conversing with. This was a man who had taken her for his own purpose, whatever it was, and she shouldn’t expect his concern to be any more than clinical.

  She was surprised that she wanted to talk to him. Through the two years of torment she had endured, she had refused to talk to anyone, even the psychiatrists, knowing that nobody could say anything that would help. Her heart had been wrenched from her body and left shattered in a million pieces. How was talking going to help?

  When her nightie dropped into place, she took a moment to look closer at Jahn. He certainly had big shoulders to cry on. Maybe he would listen to her, but what good would it do? How could anyone like him understand what she had been through?

  He held out the tin again. “Take your panties down and you can rub this into the creases between your legs.”

  Bunching the nightie to her waist, Lena pulled her panties down and let them drop to the floor, not caring if he was watching or not. Taking the tin, she sat down against her pillows and opened her legs. Jahn turned away again, and she smiled.

  She found the sensitive areas of rash and gasped as the cream soothed them. Shifting to her side, she cried out as she rash between her buttocks stung sharply. The pain ignited her rising emotions and once again the tears flowed. She sat back defeated an
d let them fall, pulling her nightie back into place.

  Jahn turned back and crouched down, gazing into her face. “Some of the skin is split, which is why it hurts so much. Let me do it and I will be gentle, and if you want to talk, I will listen.”

  Trembling she stared out at nothing. “It’s not just the rash that hurts. Everything hurts. Life hurts, and it’s never going to get any better.”

  “Maybe not, but time does take some of the sting out of it.”

  She looked at him. “What would you know? Have you ever lost something that means more than life itself?”

  Jahn breathed deeply. “I lost my whole family when I was twelve years old.”

  Lena gasped. “How?”

  “It doesn’t matter. They died and I was dumped in an orphanage. I got out when I was fourteen. Now do you want to tell me your story?”

  She continued to stare at him. “How do you go on? How do you not hate the world and everyone in it?”

  “I did, but I didn’t get the luxury of feeling sorry for myself. In the orphanage, most of my time was spent trying to avoid a beating, either from the carers or from the older boys. The rest of my time was in trying to escape. It took me two years, but I got out. It only got worse after that. Living on the streets, avoiding the militia, trying to survive; after a while you don’t know if you’re sad, angry or just don’t give a shit.”

  Lena stared harder. “Are all the orphanages like that?”

  Jahn shrugged. “I don’t know. I think it got better when the Soviet collapsed. Now Human Rights people come in and inspect them. The carers are trained and there is more media attention to keep them in line. I just grew up in the wrong era.”